The Domestic Approach
by rambling raconteur
Summary: The Human-Time Lord Meta-Crisis Doctor is a problem needing solving. Rose is the solution, certainly, but can they get over the past to see each other as they are now? After all, time is truly irreverent compared to the grand scheme of things. [TenToo/Rose Tyler, possibly AU in later chapters. Rated only for mild language and just in case.]


**Well, here goes. First Doctor Who fanfiction, so thanks for reading. If I've missed something, constructive criticism is much appreciated.**

**I had to write about RosexTenToo because they have to get up to _something_ in that parallel world, right? And it needed writing.**

**Thanks for reading.**

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_The Domestic Approach_

_Chapter One_

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_The Doctor. But not the Doctor._

Rose Tyler gazed at the sleeping form on the bed across the hotel room, followed the slow rising and falling of his chest, that particular right hand twitching in sleep as he gave a soft groan and flipped on his side, now facing Rose on the opposite bed. But as she studied the ever-familiar features of this man she felt more and more guilty of watching him like so. _She had traveled with this man for more than two years,_ she pondered, but quickly stopped herself. _With the original copy of this man._

Because as much as she liked to believe that the living being snoring softly in sleep just a few meters away was her Doctor, he wasn't.

As if reading her thoughts, the Time-Lord-That-Was-Not gave a heaving yawn and stretched. (Just as he had in what felt like such a long time before, stumbling out of his room in the TARDIS on early mornings.) He snuffled a bit, eliciting a grin on Rose's face in spite of her current thoughtful demeanor, before blinking his eyes blearily and focusing in on the first object for his first morning as a single-hearted human. Rose.

"Good morning," Rose said softly, unable to contain her smile. Despite them being in entirely separate beds, she felt her heart give a little leap. Even mornings next to this man was apparently enough to send her into bliss.

"Mornin'," he stretched luxuriantly, toes just about touching the footboard of the single-sized bed. He returned her beam.

"So, first morning as a part-human," she ventured a conversation, gazing at him with the half-meter gap between the beds. "You like it so far?"

"Only one heart," he responded, brown eyes blinking good-naturedly, the Doctor apparently in a bit of a dreamy morning state. "Strange, only two beats, but I'm coping."

"Looks like you'll have to get a mortgage," she began to fall into the familiar patterns again, forgetting her previous qualms as her fatigued mind clung desperately to the ways things had been. So _easy._

"Yeah, oh well," he sighed, pressing his lips together in a half-joking, disappointed expression. "It's a life I thought I'd never get to live, and now I can."

"Really? You'd want this, not going anywhere?"

"Well, that chunk of TARDIS coral will grow in time. But meanwhile…" the easy smile returned to his lips as he watched her disbelieving expression. "It's another adventure. Well, almost." he tipped his head with the last two words, pouting a bit.

"What?" she asked.

"Missing something in the picture, that's all," he responded, pretending not to see Rose anymore.

"What's it then, what's missing?" she grinned at him. He lit his eyes back upon her, clearing his throat.

"You never did answer me, back on that beach," he spoke, still smiling but not looking at all sleepy anymore. She blinked once, taking a tremulous breath as she found her previous emotions threatening to waterlog her down again. "I…I need you, Rose Tyler."

"God," she smiled, eyes welling up despite her efforts to stop them from it. "N-nothing to lose now, is there?"

"Nothing to lose," he nodded, his tone suddenly so tired, a thousand years old. "And you have no idea how glad."

"Y-you," she said softly. "The other you, I mean…" she laughed in spite of herself, unsure what to say. "He wanted this, didn't he? Didn't answer me on purpose."

"I'm not whole. I'm broken, and I…he knew it." For the first time in Rose's life, she saw the Doctor, and she saw the marring insecurity, the spiderweb of

cracks in his effortless, child-like poise. She saw him _human._ "I killed all those Daleks without another thought, like I had nearly killed that first one, the one that you touched. But you were there to stop me, and you helped me. This is obviously very much your choice, but…"

"No way in hell am I refusing," she cut in with a soft laugh, inwardly desperately wishing for the bouncing, chattering Doctor of hers, always knowing what to say to sass his way out of a situation. "It's like we're back on the TARDIS, yeah?" she extended her hand to him, the way he had countless times, the morning air making gooseflesh rise against the contrast of her warm blankets. And he reached out, this time not just automatically, but every movement deliberate as his strong fingers wrapped firmly around hers.

"Of course. But better," he said. He tugged a bit on her arm, smirking. "Now what are you doing all the way over there for? Come on." Rose regarded him a bit doubtfully but relented, getting to her feet and feeling the cold for only a little while before taking the recently vacated spot next to the Doctor. He pulled the blanket out from its untidy pile and draped it over her, enveloping her in an immediate warmth that sent little squirms of euphoria down her spine. The bed was not very big, and she found herself almost touching noses with him as they lay a bit breathlessly beside each other in the morning sunlight.

"Well then," he gulped, blinking. "Mortgages. You still…want to share one with me?" He resumed his pensive peer at her, absentminded again but still so very attentive in his own way.

"It'd be a pleasure, Doctor," she murmured blithely. "A life with you…like I said, not refusing."

"See, that's what I like about you," he said briskly, snapping into his signature rambling mode as he propped himself onto one elbow. "Or only one of the things, anyhow. You're not afraid of anything."

"What's there to be afraid of? Can't manage numbers?" she teased.

"No, no, figures and mortgages are easy," he said, pursing his lips as a shadow of genuine worry crossed his face and his voice lowered. "But such little tasks…housework, cooking, and _dinner parties_...! I...he shrugged a bit sheepishly. "Not really many courses for a young Time Lord about that. Not that I'm not up for it." He stiffened, nodding in firm resolve. "But you'll have to teach me, see? I need your help in more than one way."

She laughed. "Right. Vacuums-now they're a right bit of trouble if you don't know how to use 'em or which to buy."

"Oh no," he played along, chuckling along with her, banter flowing easily as it ever had. She was in the middle of a whole dialogue about unbearable neighbours when there was a rap on the door.

"If you two are done snogging in there, we've got room service going in room 35," Mickey called through the door.

"Oh, shut up," Rose responded, rolling out of bed and pulling the Doctor with him. He wore striped pajamas, borrowed ones from Pete and consequently they were much too big and hung limply on his thin frame. Just as he had been the first time he'd saved the Earth with her. _No, the original Doctor had saved the world._ She tried to shake the technicalities aside for now, and she found her legs still weak as she leaned a bit more on the man next to her.

Rose had been buzzing with adrenaline but it quickly crashed on the ten hour drive to a hotel. She barely remembered checking in, never mind changing or deciding the sleeping arrangements that put them in the same room.

Not that she minded, of course. And even now, as he pulled the hotel room door open for her with a flourish and a wink, he could have easily been beckoning her into the TARDIS for another adventure of theirs. Another venture into, well frankly, the unknown. The domestic approach, as he'd worded it so long ago. A strange, domestic undertaking.

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